Nemesis (The MechaVerse Trilogy Book 2)

by Jeremy Cunkle

  Eve burst into the nursing station, clearly having run the entire way from the pilot’s quarters. As soon as her desperate plea was finished, she doubled over gasping for breath. Three mechanics in their grease covered overalls followed behind her, pulling Mikkhael’s limp form from an electric cart they had laid him on, carrying him between them to a nearby gurney.

  Dr. Hesken had been reading charts, reading off instructions to a nearby nurse. She immediately sized up the situation and then moved into action, handing the data slate off to the nurse who probably did not need her instructions in the first place. Two additional nurses at the duty station moved into action, prepping an IV and monitoring equipment.

  “Put him down gently; keep his neck supported as you do so.” Dr. Hesken directed the scene with practiced ease, assuming command of the situation as efficiently as any General on a battlefield. The mechanics set Mikkhael down as instructed and then retreated from the medical ward, their task complete.

  Dr. Hesken walked next to the gurney as it headed for the emergency operating room, her stomach knotting with tension as she examined her patient’s vitals. He was entirely limp, more similar to a coma then a feinting spell by the slack of his jaw and the way his tongue fell unsupported against his lower cheek. Already, his skin color was turning a pale yellow, the veins sinking deep underneath his skin from dehydration.

  She reached in her pocket to grab a device, which she then pointed at him, scanning his biorhythms. “He’s burning up! How long ago did this fever start?” Dr. Hesken asked Eve who trailed behind them, shell-shocked and still gasping for air.

  “It was a low grade fever for a few hours; I checked when he fell asleep at one point earlier. I know you asked me to keep an eye on him, but he wouldn’t let me check on him or do anything while he was conscious.”

  The gurney turned the corner and was pushed through the double doors into the emergency room. The nurses stepped away to ready themselves while they waited for the Doctor to decide a course of action. They made a good team and were able to operate with minimal input from long practice.

  “His breathing is shallow and labored, pulse is weak, heart rate elevated, and that fever has a chance to kill him. You were worried enough that you checked on him while he was asleep. Don’t lie to me girl, what happened.”

  Eve did not shirk from Dr. Hesken’s piercing glare, the courage it took to meet her eyes showed her steel. But there was guilt hiding in the background as well, it was the one thing that made her courage falter. “You know as well as I do ever since his so called friends showed up from nowhere that he didn’t take it well. Then they had that falling out. I tried to let him have his space and just be with him so he didn’t feel alone, but especially the last day or two he’s been acting increasingly strange. He hasn’t been sleeping much, and when he does, it’s in short spurts. So when he finally did fall asleep, I was worried and checked his temperature. It was high but not too bad and I knew he didn’t want me to bring him to you. After a while, he seemed to quiet down so I left to get some rest of my own back in my quarters. When I returned and checked on him I found him like this and then I ran into the hallway where I met the mechanics and they carried him here.”

  Dr. Hesken watched Eve’s face intently, as able to spot a lie or falsity as any veteran cop. Seeing none, she closed her eyes processing what had been said. When she opened them a few seconds later her demeanor changed entirely. Instead of the angry glare and sharp gaze, her shoulders and jaw were now set. She stood to her full height addressing Eve as the main focus of her attention for the first time. Dr. Hesken radiated a promise of imminent violence; her voice was calm and measured as she spoke again. A fool would have mistaken the sudden change for something other than the absolute danger that it truly was. The nurses waited quietly at the far ends of the room, avoiding attention.

  “You know more,” was all she said. In the end, it was all that was needed.

  Eve backed up a step. She had been raised in the confines of the rebel base of Mount Olympus for most of her life, exploring the countless miles of carved out halls as a small child. Dr. Hesken was as much a mother to her as she had ever known one, and more importantly, Eve was not so foolish as to misjudge the situation. The dam broke, she talked.

  “It’s all my fault. And theirs, damn them! He was absolutely amazing until he lost Starkindler to save me, and then he walked around lost but still in full control of himself and everything around him. I felt that he just needed some time to recover and then he would be fine. We would get Starkindler rebuilt and then everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. I owed it to him to stick around and see if I could help, but then they showed up out of nowhere just as he was recovering. It screwed with his head! They wouldn’t listen to him about how much he cares about them and how dangerous fighting is and how much he cares for them, they just ignored him, and he couldn’t handle it. Then on top of all that they brought that monster with them and actually expect him to pilot it! They call themselves his friends? They’re killing him from the inside!”

  Eve screamed the last part, fists clenched at her sides, tears running down her cheeks. She had not cried since she was a little girl when a nice old man whose name she could not remember sat down with her and her dad and very gently explained that her mother had been killed. Her body shook with rage and frustration at the inability to lash out, everything bottled up in her was pouring out, and worst of all, it was all for someone else.

  For her part, Dr. Hesken blinked slowly a few times, as shocked by the turn of events as Eve. She looked down at Mikkhael’s inert form lying helplessly on the gurney, wracked with a fever that would surely kill him soon if left untended. Understanding of the situation dawned on her. “It’s mental then isn’t it? His symptoms are manifesting themselves in physical form from the mental anguish of Starkindler being destroyed and the Earther’s fighting in his stead and being too hurt to join them and therefore protect them.”

  The nurses moved into action, an unspoken command having evidently been uttered.

  “Dammit, this one’s going to be harder to deal with.” Dr. Hesken muttered under her breath as she absently scanned Mikkhael’s inert form, searching for answers.

  A monitor alarm blared as he went into a violent seizure. Eve helped Dr. Hesken pin his arms as the nurses wrapped light restraints around his wrists and then his ankles in order that he would not fling himself off of the gurney. All four women were breathing hard with the exertion of holding him down by the time the seizure passed.

  “What the hell’s going on? Is he killing himself the only way he can or what?” Eve tried not to scream the question but likely failed.

  Realization dawned for Dr. Hesken. “You could almost say that. I would wager that on a subconscious level he’s self-inducing a coma, unbelievable as that is. The after effects of the drug cocktail Starkindler used to boost his faculties in battle have taught his body that in order to recover after each of his missions; he needs to go into the deepest state of sleep possible. From the moment when he arrived here on Mars; his body has learned to rely on that, and I believe he’s trying to return to that near catatonic state out of a subconscious defense mechanism. I also believe the trauma of losing Starkindler, and potentially his friends, is overwhelming his empathetic abilities at a time when he’s highly vulnerable, and yes, the danger is now very real.”

  Dr. Hesken eyed his now resting form and the monitors reading his vitals. They showed clear signs of increasing physical distress. It was only a matter of time until the next seizure, which would almost certainly be more violent than the last one. She knew they would increase in frequency and severity until he fell entirely into a coma or died.

  “Empath abilities? What are you talking about?” Eve asked as she stood awkwardly useless at the foot of the gurney, the glare of the bright white lights overhead making her uncomfortable and feel out of place.

  Dr. Hesken did not look up as she continued working. “You didn’t know? He
is an incredibly powerful empath. This all probably stems from his affinity to feel what another person is experiencing, and the only way for him to turn that part of himself off is to shut himself down so that he doesn’t need to feel anymore. Now, not only do we need to convince his unconscious form to find a different outlet, we have to show him that he has more support to help him through this then he believes. That in itself would be difficult to do if he was conscious, but this far along the options available are increasingly draconic.”

  “Can you wake him up? Maybe force him to reboot or anything?” Eve asked. When no reply proved immediately forthcoming, she muttered angrily, “It’s all that damned demonic machines fault.”

  The good doctor was pacing now, clearly disturbed. The nurses finished setting up an IV, breathing tube, and other equipment that would be needed for the time being. They retreated to the back of the room, once again avoiding attention, knowing there was more yet to come.

  Dr. Hesken stopped mid-stride, her face clearly displaying understanding of what was wrong. “Nemesis. Of course. Mikkhael can’t stop his friends from fighting as their motivation to fight is as strong as his. He knows this. With the loss of Starkindler, he can’t protect them despite repeated warnings about how dangerous fighting is. The only option he can see is piloting Nemesis, an option that he is clearly rejecting, the effects of which are what we are seeing.

  She continued, “He probably doesn’t even know about the mercenary Mech armor companies brought from Earth to replenish the PDF ranks, and yet he can make the clear leap that anything we face from here on out will be more dangerous then what he had to fight, meaning that the Earther’s are in very acute danger. Eve? Does he know Starkindler is being rebuilt? And while on that track, does he know about the mercenary units?”

  Eve shook her head no, trying not to cry. “I started to tell him Starkindler would be finished being rebuilt in a few weeks and he could pilot it again, but then he became very angry and told me to drop it and to not speak of it again. I’m still not sure what caused that reaction, the change that came over him when I mentioned it was night and day. I did tell him about the other factions making headway on their end of the fight and he actually listened to that. He asked a few questions but in general seemed uninterested, which surprised me. In the end, I decided to not mention the mercenary units for now.” Eve stopped, realizing that she was rambling.

  “Good decision. It seems that without an advanced Mech armor to pilot, Mikkhael has lost sight of his identity. We were all unaware that he was using Starkindler as a mental crutch. I would wager that before his decision to come to Mars and fight with us that he had a very easy life, one that left him unused to extreme hardship. I would also wager that he’s really a very kind and even shy boy if circumstances had been different. Whatever triggered the desire to come fight, Starkindler became the enabler, as much a part of his identity as anything else, and without it....”

  She was going to continue but paused and changed direction. “He hasn’t been in contact with Aurora lately either has he?” Dr. Hesken asked.

  Eve shook her head no. “I tried asking him about that once as well. He clearly heard me, but ignored the question. When I repeated the question, he left the room. I haven’t noticed her presence around the base either, it’s almost as if she died when Starkindler did or something. There is a shell of her running, I think to keep people from noticing her absence and asking questions, but it’s obvious to anyone who knew her capabilities that something changed.”

  “We would need to ask Drogdyn to know for sure then, but it’s probably safe to say that Aurora quite possibly did die with the destruction of Starkindler. You’re not the only one to have noticed her changes.” Dr. Hesken said, choosing not to relay what had nearly happened when she confronted Vera. “Whether or not the other Earther’s can resurrect her with the completion of the new Starkindler remains to be seen, but those are two critical forms of support he relied upon and lost.”

  Dr. Hesken eyed the results of the monitoring equipment displaying their information about Mikkhael’s state of health against the nearest wall. “He needs time to rest. We need to buy him that time. We can force his body to reboot, and will do so when the time comes. However, that time isn’t right now. Maybe when Starkindler is finished being rebuilt, or if his physical condition deteriorates further. For the time being, we will let him rest. We ran this war for years before he arrived. For us to rely so heavily on one man and his abilities in this broken state is simply wrong. I will inform the Commander that for the time being Mikkhael will need to remain heavily sedated, to the point of possibly falling into a coma in order to halt the seizures. You will reinforce the priority of rebuilding Starkindler to Chief Thorsten, and then you will go assist with that project in any way possible. If anything happens to the Earther’s before Starkindler is finished being rebuilt and Mikkhael is forced to pilot the Nemesis in this state of mind, god help us all.”

  The nurses moved again, bringing medicines that Dr. Hesken ordered through her data slate while she talked, inserting them into Mikkhael’s IV. They began the process of cutting off his clothes, shaving his head, and preparing the myriad of sensors and tubes that would watch over him as he slept in the medical ward.

  For the time being, the restraints would stay on. At this point, Mikkhael was a danger to himself and precautions would have to be made for a more long-term solution. Dr. Hesken stayed to oversee the preparations for restoring balance to his ravaged body, unable to help with the root problems that plagued his mind. She could only hope that he would find the light he so desperately needed while he slept.

  Eve retreated back to her personal quarters, waiting for the door to hiss shut before releasing more tears. The price Mikkhael continued to pay from his attempt to rescue her overwhelmed her. She vowed to repay him. She let the tears flow, then changed, showered, and went to find Chief Engineer Thorsten.

  * * * * *

  Lieutenant Jacobs pressed the knock button on the outside of Commander Ultor's office door. A camera activated, taking his picture, displaying it on the electronics surface nearest to where Commander Ultor was facing. A synthetic knocking sound chimed three times to alert him of someone requesting an audience. The picture was captioned by the last location in the base visited by whoever was knocking, providing a surreptitious information set for the Commander to make an educated guess as to what the meeting would be about, and then accept or decline as he wished.

  Commander Ultor recognized the face, and without needing additional information accepted the request. He triggered the release mechanism for the door, the intercom automatically activating. "Enter."

  Lieutenant Jacobs entered, marched to in a few feet of the Commander’s desk, and then stood at attention, saluting smartly. "Lieutenant Jacobs reporting, Sir. Test Eagle flight was a … success. During the mission, a mixed PDF force of four Mech armor squadrons that included mercenary units from Earth was engaged and completely eliminated in Hell’s Gate. We lost two units, but recovered the pilots. One pilot sustained minor injuries, Sir."

  Commander Ultor sighed, louder than he intended. The detailed account of events was already in front of him, as the Lieutenant already knew. He had read it multiple times. The motions had to be made anyways though. "You were aware lieutenant that your orders were strictly to patrol, and if at all possible avoid combat, correct?"

  If possible, Lieutenant Jacobs seemed to stand even straighter. "Sir. I take full responsibility. We located two enemy squadrons in Hell's Gate. My eagerness to see the Omnos Squad in action led me to the poor judgment of supporting their decision to stray from the original mission parameters."

  Following the statement, Lieutenant Jacobs removed his pilots badge and then began to remove his side arm, effectively resigning his position.

  Commander Ultor stopped him. "That will be enough Lieutenant, Thank You. You are suspended from piloting for two weeks, and will spend the time training the new pilots on the simulators, hopefu
lly reminding the other pilots that their free time is better used elsewhere then ogling our new allies and their shiny toys. After that time has passed, you will remain in command of the Omnos squad's supporting elements. You have learned your very expensive lesson, and now you will have the resolve necessary to resist such future mistakes, a mistake I can ill afford someone else making if I replace you. I need not mention what should happen the next time you make an equally poor decision."

  Lieutenant Jacobs was an honest man to a fault as well as a career soldier. He had been honest in his self-reproach. During the five years he spent serving under Commander Ultor, his record was flawless. The fact that he had a slap on the wrist, in name only, as a consequence for disregarding direct orders and consequently the battle of Hell’s Gate unsettled him. He held his thoughts to himself though; he knew the Commander was not done yet.

  As if to prove the silent point, Commander Ultor stood and then walked over to the wall that also served as a screen. He pointed a finger at the corner, activating the video feed of the battle he had already cued. "You will remain the main point of contact between ourselves and the Omnos squad members. On your first mission, you were able to begin building a bond of trust; we need to further nurture this. I need someone I can trust as our infield liaison with them. What I am about to say is pertinent to that role, and is not to leave this room under any circumstances.

  He continued, “You were instructed to avoid combat for several reasons. Just as you were eager to see them in action, so too I imagine was the PDF Central Command. I fear their presence will no longer be a secret and the element of surprise has mostly been lost to us now with a few exceptions. Secondly, we have not had time to judge their character yet. For the time being, they will be held at arm’s length, never out of sight. Simply because they are Mikkhael's allies, does not mean that they are ours. Is this understood?"